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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25662226">Of Weakness and Vice</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/1V1/pseuds/1V1'>1V1</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Arcana (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Gift Fic, Tenderness, Tsunderes, soft fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:20:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,114</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25662226</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/1V1/pseuds/1V1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A gift in thanks for my friend for helping me out in a pinch. Just a snapshot moment of what I hope is a cute IC thing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Apprentice/Valerius (The Arcana)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Weakness and Vice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Well manicured fingers pinched the crystal stem of the wine glass, the thin rob not yielding to the tight grip. White wine filled it halfway, the scent of fragrant blossoms coupled with peaches hinted in it’s flavor. Sweet, delicate and something to be savored, enjoyed. It wasn’t often such a wine found it’s way into the man’s hand, much less into his glass, but as he stared down the one who’s gaze fixed upon him, Valerius was grateful for his good fortune. Such a vintage would be wasted downing it to gain the comfortably hazy seafoam softness that alcohol afforded, and he knew it would be better to keep his wits upon him when deal with those who appeared at first glance to be guileless.</p><p>Such persons were things best handled with a sharp and clear mind, with something to distract when their presence became dangerous.</p><p>Izzy was such a person, and unable to hold their gaze any longer, he broke eye contact first, flicking his own lilac sight to the pale white-amber hue of his drink. He knew they were smiling at their victory, he could feel the brightness of it against his skin, the warmth hovering against his face, begging to seep in and infect him not unlike an illness. He wished to look up, to see that smile and know it, but doing so would concede his defeat and yielding to their presence. Such things were best avoided, Izzy’s ego already swollen from his earlier lapse in judgement.</p><p>He should not have complimented them. Nor, he mused, should he have told them it was a lie. That in itself was his lie and now feeling their warmth on him, bearing down with sweetness he refused to take pleasure in, Valerius pursed his lips against his wineglass, drowning out the longing her felt with the light burn of his vice. </p><p>“You could just admit it.” </p><p>They held no malice or anger in their tone, just a fondness, a lit of teasing familiarity he would deny. But that too, would have been a lie. He was familiar with them. He knew them better than he should. Why should a consul be acquaintances with a magician? For what reason would nobility seek out the company of a commoner?</p><p>A sun warm palm slipped over his free hand, fingers interlacing as Izzy scooted to his side, legs tucked under them as their form curved into his. As the melded against him, not unlike vines crawling into a space not made for them. It should not be so, but the vine made that space their own, Izzy made themselves at home tucked to his side, the sun warming their skin and letting it bleed momentarily through his own robes. He relished the vines that wrapped around him, choking out every place cracked open and bare- Izzy seeped into him and his thirst was momentarily forgotten, fingerings growing slack against the crystal. </p><p>He felt the burn of alcohol more pronounced in his face as a thumb rubbed circles into his palm, and the smile pushed on him, begging for his restraint and resolve to waiver. He should not, he knew better than to get involved with magic and it’s like. He was not like fools- to be taken in by cheap tricks. <br/>Izzy did no tricks, they never performed, they only were genuine and he loathed to admit the truth he’d spoken before. They never thought him a fool and never showed him ire outside of his own goadings. They defending their honor, they fought for what they thought was right and he-</p><p>He leaning into the smile at his side, relenting, yielding lest he lose further and the vines of their arms wrap around him and prove too difficult to remove.<br/>“I could.” </p><p>The soft laughter bubbled up from Izzy, shaking them bells tinkling in their voice as he felt their amusement in how their body shook gently. They hummed, faces tucking against his neck, breath warm, hot even. He recalled the way it ghosted over the skin their in their carriage ride from his estate. </p><p>“You’re quite rude you know that?” They falsely admonished him, well deserved and he huffed, lifing his glass to down another taste of wine. He gasped whenthey plucked it from his hand, and with half lidded eyes took a sip as delicate as any noble. He swallowed as he watched them lick their lips, eyes closed as their mouth moved ever so slightly, lips parted as they inhaled, tasting the delicate notes of the vintage.</p><p>“You are the rude one.” He wanted the flush of alcohol, (warmth and comfort flooding his face and his chest aching from the burn of want), and stole his glass back, noting the faint ring left behind by lips that were not his own.</p><p>“Only when you are.” He couldn’t look them in the eye still, and spun the glass in hand, the white-amber liquid shimmering, catching light in it’s crystal casing and tempting him with another taste of what was his weakness, his vice. <br/>The glass stopped it’s cycle, and he paused before he drank, imagining the lips leaving a lingering warmth he could not feel as they kissed without. He wanted to look, to see their brilliant eyes dancing with all the things he was fond of, all the things he loathed and feared because he could lose them. Court was no place for a magician, no place for a commoner. He knew it well enough, played the game well even, but while knowing how strong Izzy was, how resilient and incredibly determined, he feared still. </p><p>It was hard, Valerius mused. Hard to love, hard to admit the person by his side was someone he wanted there, someone he trusted to be so close, dagger in hand, yet never to strike. The wine slipped past his lips and it’s taste lingered, the last drops resting at the bottom of the crystal. Izzy gently coaxed it from his grip, twirling it before dipping their finger in, catching those drops and running their digit along the rim where they had kissed.</p><p>A note sharp but clear rang out, humming in the room and echoing around them. Valerius took a breath, his eyes looked to his side and the one who had begun this game they played, this thing they called their own.<br/>“You are beautiful.” The lie redacted, he gave in. He’d lost, like he always did, yet for all his bluster could not be angery, not truly.   </p><p>The smile returned, and the softness he felt was kinder than firm crystal.<br/>He found the wine he drank then was better than that from a bottle.</p>
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